Short Stories

Ever since I can remember, I loved cooking shows.  I loved shows where the producers determined the ingredients the contestants would need to use.  There was always one ingredient that was a gotcha like sardines …

Katie lurched awake in a gasp.  She clinched at her throat, sitting straight up in bed, looking around the dark room.  The red numbers on the cable box clock read 6:03.  She put her icy …

“One and two and three and four.  One and two and three and four.” Cheryl said and squated along with the blond women on the television.  She had subscribed to Samantha’s Twenty Minute Booty Blast …

Myrah crouched as close to the ground as she could against the metal cylinder.  She hoped they could not see her, but that also meant she could not see.  She could smell the trash can …

“And with this new technology, we can obliterate chronic depression and anxiety around the world.  Thank you.” Doctor Martin paused a moment, taking in the applause from the stadium that surrounded him with a smirk.  …

Grace tapped her bare foot on the concrete floor.  She wore a pout on her face, a pout that was now permanently stuck there as though it were a stubborn stain that refused to fade.  …

Lisa balances on one foot and pulls the other one behind her grasping onto her electric blue tennis shoes.  She feels the stretch on top of her thigh.  She holds it there for a bit …

“If I could turn back time I would.  You don’t think there is not a single day that goes by that I don’t think about what I did?  I know what I did and I …

The taste of the searing sun felt nice on the back of Sarah’s legs. It seemed hotter here than back home.  Harsher.  She had rubbed sunscreen on her legs earlier in the day and wondered …

“Sit down, ladies.  We are about to begin.”  Sharron looked around her living room at the six other women huddling to find a seat as though she was the mother duck and these women were …